


Mother, My New Girfriend is a Ghost, Again

by artificialjem (EvangelineRae)



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Mental Illness, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Past Character Death, Past Drug Use, Smut, ghost au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-09-25 13:25:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9822572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvangelineRae/pseuds/artificialjem
Summary: In which Alaska is a ghost, Katya is a real human woman, and it's only a minor inconvenience... right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Usually posted on AQ first but sometimes I post earlier here if I'm impatient. Please let me know what you think, if you enjoyed it. <3

Don't move into apartment 519, that's what the sweet old lady taking a smoke break outside had told her when she arrived at the complex.

But since when did Katya listen to elderly figures giving her advice? She'd left Russia to move to America despite her mother’s warnings, after all.

“People are mean in America.” Her mother had said. “All the food is processed. You don't want to get fat, do you, lapochka?”

Maybe she was the naive white, blonde, female protagonist in a horror movie, but the apartment seemed perfectly fine--in need of a fresh coat of paint perhaps, but totally fine. And so what if the last tenant had died? Katya wasn't scared of death, in fact she embraced it; bring on the reaper, life was boring! Ok, maybe that was taking it a bit far, but she didn't believe in ghosts.

So she signed the lease without a question and moved in with her single suitcase and barely enough cash to make the first month’s rent. She was living the American Dream, right? Her mother would be proud (not). It was better than crashing on her friend’s couch like she had been for the last 6 months.

The first week passed with no problems, other than the fact that Katya was incompetent at cooking and burnt her spaghetti sauce after falling asleep with the stove still on. That hardly counted though, because she didn't even set off the fire alarm. She began to think that maybe the sweet old lady hadn't actually been that sweet and just wanted to scare her away so she could have one less neighbour. Katya was a bit offended that anyone would assume she was a bad neighbour. She was quiet as a mouse most of the time, and she didn't know enough people in America to have a raging house party (she was also getting way too old to party, but never mind that). Fuck her, anyways. Katya should have told the old woman that the cigarette she was smoking was going to wreck her old broken lungs. That would have been a bit hypocritical though, as Katya was sure her own lungs were black as tar even at the ripe age of 27.

The second week was different. And maybe staying inside with the curtains drawn closed and in complete silence was enough to drive anyone crazy, but there was something weird going on in her apartment. It started with things falling. That was hardly a big deal though, Katya hadn't put much effort in her unpacking, so when bottles started falling off the bathroom shelf, she assumed she'd just placed them a little too precariously. It started to happen every night though, no matter how organized she tried to be when she put them back. Then her plastic containers in the kitchen cupboards began to tumble right after, and that was impossible because cupboards had doors! Nice, wooden doors that couldn't possibly be pushed open by the weightless plastic of a piece of Tupperware.

As if all that wasn't enough, there was the screaming. At first Katya was sure she must just have crazy upstairs neighbours who were into some really kinky shit, but upon investigation the sound was definitely coming from her closet.

It wasn't like, a bloodcurdling, horrifying scream like you'd expect in the movies, but more of a woeful one. Maybe she was reading into it too much, but she had a lot of time to analyze scream patterns when she never left the house. She never saw anything though, no matter how hard she tried. She always heard the containers falling off shelves and rushed over only to see them toppling to the floor. It was the same with the scream, she would open the closet door only to have the sound stop.

Then, one night about a week and a half into ‘The Haunting (2017)’ as Katya came to call it, the screaming just wouldn't stop. Katya had been riddled with anxiety since it had all started, and she hadn't slept in at least a couple days. That night she just couldn't take it, the usual voices in her head mixed with the horrible screeching and there was just nowhere quiet in the entire apartment.

“Please!” She yelled out into the darkness. “Please stop!” She was so tired. She didn't know what to do anymore. Her yelling only seemed to make whatever was making the noise more angry, and it increased the pitch of its scream. The sound hit Katya right in the gut; it seemed so sad.

She picked up her phone to call one of her friends, typing in the number with shaky fingers. She prayed that she'd pick up, even though it was the wee hours of morning by now. God, the screaming had never gone on this long.

“Trixie?” She tried to speak loudly so as to be heard over the screaming.

“Kat?” Her friend answered, sounding groggy. Of course she was tired, it was almost 4:00 am. “What's wrong? Are you ok?”

“There's something in my apartment.” Katya told her.

“What? Like a robber?” Katya could hear from her voice that she was quickly jolted fully awake. “Call the fucking police!”

“No, not a robber.” Fuck, she didn't even know what it was. “There's this screaming, and it just won't stop. It happens every night.”

“Are you sure it's in your apartment?”

“Yes, of course I'm sure.” Ok, maybe she wasn't that sure. “Trix, I don't believe in ghosts, but I swear to God there's something haunting my apartment.”

“Katya…” Trixie sounded doubtful, maybe even pitying, now.

“I'm not joking, I swear.”

“Have you been taking your meds?”

“Of course I have! Why the fuck would you ask me that?”

“You're just,” Trixie paused. “Listen Katya, I think you should go to sleep.”

“I can't sleep with this,” she held the phone out hoping to catch the screaming. “Going on.”

“I can't hear anything.”

“Well, it's there, it's probably just too far away.” As if the screaming was listening to her, it stopped suddenly.

What the fuck?

“Katya?” Trixie sounded really worried. “Katya, what's going on?”

“It stopped.” Katya was very confused. “Trixie, I'm gonna have to call you back.”

“Wait-

Katya hung up the phone, going to investigate. Maybe she was sleep deprived and practically insane by now, but she needed to figure out what was going on. She stomped her way to her bedroom, grabbing the handle of her closet door and throwing it open with a huff.

This time it wasn't empty.

Inside the closet there was a young woman with ratty blonde hair and smeared makeup. She looked like she'd been crying, probably the culprit of the horrendous screaming.

“What the fuck?” Katya couldn't stop herself from cursing, loudly.

“Oh thank god!” The girl’s expression shifted from grief to one of relief. She looked very shaken up still. “I was stuck, fuck, that hasn't happened in a long time.”

What did she mean, she was stuck? It was just a closet, not some kind of coded safe room... Katya stood dumbfounded for a few seconds before finding her voice. “What are you doing in my apartment?”

“Well, it's technically mine. Or it was, at least. I don't really know how the lease goes when you're dead but still hanging around.”

“Holy shit.” Thoughts were swirling around Katya’s head, and she barely registered what the woman was saying. “What the fuck is going on?” She was asking herself more than anyone else. She was going fucking insane, wasn't she?

The woman walked out of the small room, obviously trying to catch her breath still. She was wearing a tight leather mini skirt, heels that were hardly sensible for indoors (or outdoors for that matter, why did anyone need 6inch hooker heels?) and an ill-fitting baggy grey sweater. Katya didn't really know what it all meant, and she continued to process it all in her head. When she'd told Trixie she thought her apartment was haunted, she meant there was some kind of vengeful spirit who wanted to play tricks on her, not a real human woman hiding in her closet.

“Hi, my name’s Alaska, what's yours?” The woman asked, drawling at the end of her sentence and pulling Katya out of her head.

“Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova.” Katya blurted out. As if her name wasn't hard to say already, she practically fumbled over it with her tongue.

“Ok.” Alaska deadpanned. She obviously hadn't gotten it.

“But you can just call me Katya.” Phew, she managed to save herself. Why was she worried about making a good impression on the woman secretly living in her apartment anyway?

“Russian?”

“Yes.” Katya answered without thinking. “I feel like I should be the one asking you questions, not the other way around.”

“Ask away.” Alaska sat down on Katya’s bed, and Katya wondered for a moment if she should stop her but at this point she’d already been an idiot enough to not kick her out, what was one last offense? Besides, she did want answers.

She opened her mouth to speak. Shit. Why did her mind have to go blank right this second?

“Um.” She began. “Why were you in my closet? and why were you screaming?”

“I've been goddamn awful tonight, haven't I? I've been shifting.”

“Shifting?”

“Well, I don't know if that's the real word for it but I've been kind of coming in and out of physical reality, and I got stuck in the closet and I couldn't get out no matter how I tried. It's like my body was physically here but I couldn't touch or affect anything. It's never in-between like that anymore since the early days, I'm usually here, or I'm not.”

“Ok.” Katya couldn't say she really understood, but she supposed being trapped in the closet (no pun intended) was pretty scary. It was a really cramped space, not really the walk-in closet that had been advertised when she was first looking at the place. “And all the other nights of screaming you were stuck too?”

“Oh no.” Alaska admitted easily, leaning back a little too comfortably on the bed. “The other times I was trying to scare you.”

“You bitch.” Katya said seriously, before breaking into a fit of laughter at Alaska’s shocked expression. Why was she laughing? It's not like she cared if she hurt this, ghostbeingwoman’s feelings. The woman smiled in response.

“I'm guessing it worked a little bit?”

“A little? I thought I was going fucking crazy!” Maybe laughter was the best medicine? She could feel all the pent up tension leaving her body as she chuckled. “Ok, wait. So you're a ghost?” Alaska nodded. “So you're the last tenant who died and you can shift in and out of the physical world but you thought it would be fun to stick around here and scare this old Russian woman?”

“You're hardly an old woman.” Alaska joked. “I've never tried to leave, to be honest. And I don't have much control over the shifting, but I've been more and more physical lately and I really don't know what would happen if I went out into society.”

“Do you think you're tethered to this apartment? Like it's your place of death right?” Katya didn't know where all these smart thoughts were coming from. She was handling this news pretty well. Maybe she was a little crazy still?

“Maybe? Like I said, I've never tried.”

Katya opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by knocking at her door.

“Katya?” Trixie’s voice seeped into the apartment, and she sounded really worried.

“Shit.” Katya deadpanned. “You need to hide.” She directed Alaska back to the closet.

The woman gave her a look. “Are you serious?”

“Yes! She can't find out you're here, and I'm sorry you have to go back in there but please be quiet.”

Alaska reluctantly slipped back into the cramped space. Katya quickly but gently shut the door, and made her way back into the living room.

“I'm coming!” She yelled to Trixie as she began to undo the locks on the front door. When she opened it to reveal her friend, Trixie looked incredibly exhausted and concerned. It had been a little while since their phone call but Katya could tell she'd been tossing and turning since then and had probably rushed over because she was worried. Katya knew she herself must look a mess too, she hadn't slept at all and oh right, there was a ghost/woman/being living in her apartment.

“Katya?” Trixie asked. “Can I come in?” She was wearing a nightgown and a pair of sneakers. For any normal human that might have been a sure indication that she'd been asleep but Trixie practically wore sleepwear as clothing every day.

“Yeah.” Katya let her in and Trixie grabbed her by the shoulders to look her over.

“How are you feeling?” She asked Katya cautiously.

“I'm exhausted.” She answered, and it was the truth.

“Do you remember calling me earlier?”

“Yes.”

“And do you remember why?”

“I'm so sorry Trix, I'm so stupid.” Katya began to babble. It was the only way she knew to cover up the truth. “I must have been sleep deprived and the usual noises around the apartment must have really gotten to me.”

“So you don't still think there's a ghost in your apartment?”

“No.” Katya lied through her teeth.

“God, Kat. You really scared me.”

“I'm sorry.”

Trixie pulled her into a tight hug, and Katya felt bad for lying to her, but she knew her friend wouldn't believe the truth. Hell, Katya hardly believed the truth.

“Are you gonna be ok?” Trixie asked gently, but Katya could tell there was a lot riding on her answer.

“Yeah, I think so. I think I'm just gonna try to catch up on some sleep and I'll be much better. Thank you for checking up on me though, it means a lot.”

It must have worked, Trixie looked relieved. She gave Katya a kiss on the cheek before deciding to leave her alone to get some sleep.

“Please call me if you need anything.” She said as Katya gently closed the door. Once she was gone, she hustled back to her bedroom to get Alaska out of the closet.

“I'm so sorry.” She apologized as Alaska stepped out once again.

“It's fine, girl.”

She tried to resume their conversation from where they'd been interrupted.

“So, you want me to move out.” Katya assumed. She wasn't (quite) stupid, she could take a hint. All the screaming and dropping things would have probably been enough to passive-aggressively convince a normal human being to leave this apartment.

“Oh.” Alaska said like she hadn't been expecting those words. “I guess, if you want. I was trying to scare you away, but….” She trailed off, her eyes meeting Katya’s.

“Here I am?” She filled in.

“Yes, here you are.”

If Katya was being honest, she didn't really want to have to pack up and move all of her things. Hell, she couldn't go back to sleeping on Trixie’s couch either. It was lumpy, and she felt like a toddler in need of a babysitter when she was there. If Katya was being sane, and wasn't sleep deprived, she would have been out of there days ago but she was far from sane, and she was past exhausted. Anyways, she may not know anything about Alaska, but how rude would it be to kick her out of her own apartment to the real world, where she wouldn't be safe? And that was assuming she even could physically leave the building.

Katya looked her over properly. She really didn't seem like a threat. Her face looked gentle, her eyes were brown and doe-like, not someone who seemed like she was going to murder Katya in her sleep. Could ghosts kill mortals? Katya didn't think it was likely, with her limited knowledge of the supernatural from literally the last ten minutes. There was a large list of sentences that the voices in her head were urging her to speak. Her mother’s voice told Katya that she should tell the girl she was coming home to Russia and she could keep the place, Tatianna’s told her to tell the ghost to get the hell out, but all she could really say (because she was a total idiot) was: “I'm assuming you're not gonna pitch in for rent?”

Alaska just laughed. “Are you saying we should be roommates then?”

“Why not?”

Fuck, she was probably going to regret this. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! Let me know what you guys think and if there's anything you want to see. 
> 
> Tw: mental illness mention, drug overdose mention, death mention, nothing graphic except smut.

If this was a sappy romantic comedy the progression from forced roommates to girlfriends would be natural right? Did it have to be unnatural (supernatural?) just because one girl was dead?

Her and Alaska got close. Not a surprise since neither of them ever really left the apartment. At first that had meant long stretches of not-so-awkward silence that morphed into small talk.

Katya told stories about her childhood in Russia, about her mother, who was every bit a traditional Russian woman with a heart of gold.

“Why did you decide to leave?” Alaska asked.

“There were never enough opportunities for me there, I guess.” Not to mention Katya was a proud bisexual woman who could never have held hands with another girl, let alone dated one, in her hometown. But here she was, in America, with zero opportunities, and sadly, still single.

Despite the fact that Alaska kind of looked like a hooker (which Katya could respect), she was pretty sweet and down to earth. Unfortunately, she didn't know how to cook any better than Katya did and she also didn't need to eat, so she wasn't much help in that department. She was good at cleaning though. Sometimes Katya would wake up from one of her trademark depression naps and find Alaska sweeping or organizing her clothes. That was kind of a violation of privacy, but Katya was really past the point of caring. She'd let a ghost become her roommate, how much stupider (was that a word? More stupid?) could she really get? Besides, she had a total of 5 articles of clothing and basically no regard for social conventions of privacy.

“You really need to go shopping.” Alaska had told her during one of her tidying rampages, holding up an (admittedly) ugly yellow crocheted dress.

“I don't have money to buy anything.” Katya said, taking the dress from Alaska and gingerly putting it back in her closet. She really should get a job...

“You don't own anything that doesn't look like a 90 year old Russian grandmother would wear it to a funeral.”

“Hey!” Katya protested as Alaska grabbed a long black dress from the pile. “My 90 year old Russian grandmother did wear this to a funeral!”

Alaska rolled her eyes. “But seriously, Katya. Don't you want to get out of here sometimes?”

“Are you seriously judging me? You're here all the time too.”

“Yeah, but I don't really have a choice. I'm a ghost, my thing is to be stuck in the place for eternity. You're alive, or at least you were last time I checked.”

“Ooh, bitch.” Katya made a scene of checking for her own pulse. “Damn it, still there.” She joked. Alaska chuckled, and it was cute. No, stop it. She did not just think that the dead girl was cute….?

“Is there anything you like to do other than sleep and do yoga at unseemly hours of the night?”

“I'm depressed, talking to you right now is my activity for the day.”

“I get that, I really do.” Oh no, Alaska sounded pitying, Katya didn't want her to pity her.

“You think I should get out of the house?” She tried not to feel like Alaska was nagging her. She was probably right, there was just something in Katya that couldn't handle the idea of another mother figure in her life. Trixie and Tatianna (and her real biological mother) already more than filled that role.

“I just don't want to be tying you here. You've got a life to live, Katya.”

Was that kindness? For a potentially vengeful spirit, Alaska sure did seem to know how to look guilty.

“How about this.” Katya suggested. “If I leave the apartment, you have to at least try to come with me.”

Alaska raised an eyebrow.

“You said you've never tried to leave, so maybe today is the day?”

Alaska looked really skeptical, but Katya tried to morph her face to look hopeful and desperate. She made her eyes wide, and pulled the corners of her cheeks into a bright (?) smile.

“Oh my god, stop!” Alaska laughed at her face. “Fine! I'll do it, just never make that horrible face ever again.”

\---------

Katya walked down the hallway, but noticed Alaska wasn't beside her, she looked back to see the woman still standing just outside the apartment door.

“Alaska?” Was she stuck? Because Katya would feel horrible if she got stuck and it was all her fault for suggesting it.

“Sorry.” Alaska took a step, and nothing bad happened. “I just…”

“Got scared?” That was understandable. For the most part, Alaska acted pretty chill about the whole “dead” thing, but Katya knew she had no idea what the hell was going on most of the time. How could she? It's not like she had other ghosts to talk to. At least, Katya didn't think she did.

So she walked back to meet Alaska and gently took her hand. “Together, remember?”

  
They arrived at the mall by bus, which Katya admittedly hated, but she didn't have a car, or even a valid driver’s license. (Another -1 point for her functional adult tally). But it turned out that Alaska was totally capable of keeping her physical form and leaving the apartment. Katya had suggested that she put on some sunglasses so no one would recognize her, but Alaska assured her that she really hadn't known many people when she'd been alive. That was a little sad.

“You better pick out some stuff that is actually nice, because I've been wearing the same clothes since I died and I refuse to let anything currently in your closet near my body.” Alaska told Katya as they entered a clothing store.

“I should have known you'd have an ulterior motive!” Katya called her out, but somehow she wasn't that mad. Even she, the queen of lazy, could see how one might get a bit bored of the same baggy sweater and skirt for the last…. actually Katya had no idea how long it had been since Alaska had died, but it seemed a little invasive to ask. They were friends, right? It wasn't weird for friends to share clothes.

“So this?” Katya asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively as she held up a humongous faux fur coat. To her surprise, Alaska actually seemed to like the unsightly garment.

“Oh yes!” She made a bit of a show of swinging it onto her shoulders and twirling. However, even though it was kind of cute, Katya refrained from purchasing it. She didn't really have the money for it, or anywhere to where it. With Alaska’s help she picked out a few “real American” blouses and pants--she thought jeans were horrendous but picked out some that were stretchy enough to comfortably walk at least. They weren't good for splits, but they'd have to do.

Finally, Alaska managed, after much persuasion, to convince her to try a tight red dress that Katya had argued looked too small for any living human, before realizing that she'd said that to someone who wasn't exactly a living human.

“Oh shut up!” Alaska brushed it off as she pushed Katya towards the dressing room. “And you better come out once it's on to show me.”

Katya struggled a bit less than she thought she would with putting on the dress, a sign that she wasn't as unfit as she'd previously thought, perhaps? The occasional living-room squat had to be paying off because her ass looked really good in this dress. She opened up the door to get Alaska to zip her up and when she turned around to the front the woman’s jaw dropped. Yes, literally.

“Is it ok?” Katya asked, adjusting the almost-too-short hemline around her thighs.

Alaska bit her lip. “I think it's more than ok. You look fucking hot.”

So she splurged and bought it, because even if she hardly had enough to pay for this trip, seeing Alaska star struck had been worth it. She'd get a barista job or something to make up for it. Probably.

When they got back to the apartment, they'd somehow managed to waste the day away. It was pretty late, and it was the most activity Katya had done in awhile, so she was exhausted.

They'd tumbled onto the sofa together, probably a little too close considering the limited amount of time they'd known each other, but Alaska was pretty and Katya hadn't realized how lonely she'd been before she'd shown up/appeared/shifted in. She couldn't help but think about Alaska’s face back at the store. She wasn't imagining it, right? Alaska thought she was hot…. possibly?

“Thank you, for today.” Alaska finally broke the silence, looking at Katya gratefully.

“I should thank you for saving my wardrobe.” Katya joked. “How else am I supposed to be a part of the Great American Melting Pot?”

“I mean it though.” Katya could see Alaska was being serious. “I would have just stayed here, for God knows how long, if you hadn't convinced me to leave.”

It was the same for Katya. She would have let herself drift if she'd been completely alone. But today, she felt better for the first time in a long time. More confident, even. Which is why when her brain brought up the question she'd been wanting to ask since she'd met Alaska, she decided not to stop it.

“Alaska, how did you die?”

The woman looked only a bit taken aback, but immediately her features relaxed. “Drug overdose.” She said rather nonchalantly, pulling up her sleeves to reveal purple track marks all the way up the soft skin of her inner-arms. “I loved needles a little too much.”

She started to laugh, as if that was the best joke she'd ever heard. Katya was confused. Was this a language barrier thing? Oh god…

“My ex was called Needles. I guess I loved Sharon fucking Needles a little too much too. She could stop my heart just as swiftly as the drugs did.” Alaska’s voice was still light hearted, but it was tinged with bitterness.

“What happened?” Katya dared to ask, leaning in a bit closer. She didn't really expect Alaska to continue, but she did. She was a bit entranced by those brown Bambi eyes and glossy pink lips.

“We loved each other, we fought all the time, she dumped me, and then I came home and shot up all the speed I could find lying around. There was a lot, I spent all my rent money on it.”

“Fuck.” Katya deadpanned.

“It's ok.” Alaska said without even sounding sad. Instead she just moved her face next to Katya’s ear to continue. “I'm still here. Couldn't even kill myself properly. Sharon would be pissed if she knew I was a ghost, she always was the spooky one.” Alaska nipped at Katya’s earlobe, and she shivered. Only Alaska could make talking about death sexy. Obviously her previous assumptions about the sexual tension between them had been correct.

“Why can I feel you?” It hadn't really occurred to her that they logically shouldn't be able to touch. Then again, nothing about this situation was logical.

“Beats me.” Alaska answered in a raspy voice, obviously not too worried, instead, she just started sucking on Katya’s neck. Oh fuck. Was it necrophilia to fuck your resident ghost?

“Is Sharon still alive?” Katya asked, and she cursed herself for staying on the topic of Alaska’s ex as the girl kissed closer and closer to her mouth.

“I don't know.” She answered between kisses. “I try not to think about her.”

Katya finally bridged the gap between their lips, moving her head in line with Alaska’s and gripping onto the sides of her face. The taller girl’s demeanour shifted to one of submission. She obviously found it hot to be controlled, so Katya pushed her down into the sofa as they kissed. Her hands reached for the zipper of Alaska’s god-awful grey sweater, and she pulled it down to reveal a lacy bralette that really didn't count as a bra or a shirt. It was hot, either way.

There was always something exhilarating about learning what could make a new partner scream and moan in pleasure. Katya was quick to learn that Alaska loved to be teased, to squirm under the gentlest of touches until she had to beg for it. And if Katya was being honest, the power trip turned her on. She had soaked through her panties just from telling Alaska to be patient, in a low voice.

Katya slipped her fingers into Alaska and the girl didn't do anything to conceal her moans. She gripped onto Katya’s hair as she moved her fingers in a circular motion. Alaska clenched against her but before she could reach the edge, Katya pulled out and sat up, straddling Alaska’s body with her toned legs.

“I'd like to know how good you are with your mouth.” She told the girl who practically whimpered. She found Katya’s folds almost desperately, and on a scale of one to ten her mouth was an eleven. She circled Katya’s clit with her tongue, almost garnering a moan, but Katya refused to lose that easily. Her breath was warm against and she let her tongue play at her entrance while her fingers rubbed her clit. Soon enough, Katya was close, but she stopped Alaska again. The girl looked so desperate that she might come from just a look.

She slipped a knee between Alaska’s legs and she bucked her hips against it, finding a sweet spot. Finally they rocked against each other until Alaska came yelling Katya’s name. Katya wasn't far behind her and unravelled on top of her, skin on skin.

\---------

Sleeping together did solve the whole, only one bedroom problem. Alaska didn't actually need to sleep, but it was a bit boring to just hang around while Katya got her normal, human 4-6 hours. She certainly didn't want to shift out either, because she really didn't know if she'd be able to shift back in. They cuddled together a lot because they were somehow terribly domestic considering the strange circumstances. Alaska was tall and kind of bony but her arms and hair were soft and nice to touch. Katya had been thrown off at first when she'd leaned her head on the other woman’s chest and hadn't heard a heartbeat, but she was still warm like there was blood flowing through her veins.

How poetic that two lost souls, one literal, one figurative, had stumbled on each other by accident? Ok, that was a bit gross and cheesy but Katya discovered she kind of liked gross and cheesy.

\------

Katya didn't really like going to the bar. Trixie and Tatianna had dragged her out with them after complaining that they never saw her anymore, but drinking non-alcoholic beer and watching her friends get piss-drunk wasn't the best time in the world. If Katya wanted to feel like her life was worthless and no one cared to have her around, she could have just stayed in bed and wallowed in self-hatred.

And then some sleazy guy with too much money and not enough morals was practically grinding up against her ass and she had to separate herself from him and push him away.

“What's going on, sweetheart?” He drawled, and his breath smelled like alcohol.

“Yeah, this.” She gestured between the two of them. “Isn't going to work.”

“Why, you seeing anyone?”

“Um.” Was she? “Yes.” She said firmly. Removing herself from the situation and calling Trixie over to the bar with her eyes.

“Are you?” Trixie asked her afterwards.

“Sort of?”

“What do you mean, sort of? Are you fucking a hot lawyer and didn't bother to tell me? You know I need to know these things.”

“I don't think she's a lawyer….”

“Oh my god Katya, you're actually seeing someone and you didn't tell me?!”

“I, um….” Katya could think of a couple reasons why she hadn't said anything. “Sorry?”

“Come on, tell me more. What's her name? How did you meet? Is she hotter than me?”

“Well, her name’s Alaska and-

Katya was interrupted by Tatianna running over to Trixie excitedly about some guy she'd just met. Trixie gave her a look that said, ‘I'm sorry’ as she was dragged away. Katya was admittedly a bit relieved. She hadn't known what to say, “oh yeah, we hooked up because she was trapped in my closet and I am too awkward of a person to kick her out?”. As if anyone would believe her.

She'd have to come up with something more convincing to describe her girlfriend (?) for the next time she hung out with Trixie and Tatianna.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Move to America---->Find a place to live------->Get a job------->Make Friends------>Find a rich spouse to buy nice things. 

That had originally been Katya’s well-thought-out plan for her life. Instead, it had been more like:

Move to America------->Make a friend by dumpster outside their place of employment------>Crash on said friend’s couch-------->fall into crippling depression----->Move into an apartment------->Fuck a ghost------->Get a job as a sexy receptionist 

Maybe it was all done in the wrong order but she was checking off the things on her original list in a more, unconventional manner. She had friends (two that she never saw anymore), she had a place to live (haunted, but a minor inconvenience), a girlfriend (not rich, not a spouse, oh yeah and not alive), and finally she'd applied at the optometrist’s office one street over and she got to wear sexy, business woman clothes even though all she did was answer the phone and make lists. 

Despite the fact that Katya was probably mentally unstable for dating a not-real person, her life was kind of on track? She even went to the gym a couple times so she could stop doing yoga and gymnastics in the living room. She didn't really like the big, buff men staring at her while she did squats but she supposed it must have meant her ass was getting finer by the day. She'd tried to get Alaska to join her on her fitness journey but the lanky girl had protested strongly. 

“I’m dead, there's literally zero reason to exercise. I don't think I'm going to change my body in the slightest.” She'd explained with the vocal fry that had made its way into Katya’s heart. 

Katya still couldn’t wrap her head around what Alaska could and could not do. Like, she could breathe and eat and sleep, but didn't need to; she could move and have a physical body but moving and existing didn't make her tired. But Katya wasn't an expert and didn't have any other ghosts to consult so she just let it all slide. Besides, she'd watched Alaska attempt a push up once and it had been pathetic honestly. Her arms looked like they had a bit of muscle but they were about as useful as sticks of dried spaghetti. That would be a no to a gym companion, then. 

They still spent a lot of time together, even with Katya working and working out. 

 

“What do you mean you've never seen Contact?” Katya asked Alaska in disbelief one evening. 

“Is there something I'm missing, like has this movie been a meme or something that I don't know about?”

“No, it's just iconic.”

“You're the one who hasn't ever seen the Golden Girls”

“Sue me, I’m Russian.”

“And yet you've seen some random alien movie.”

“It's not a random alien movie, it's Jodie Foster discovering extraterrestrial life in a compelling science fiction drama.”

“Sometimes it confuses me that you have picked up on literally zero American social cues and yet you become obsessed with very specific strange things.”

“Can we watch it??”

“Fine.”

They started the film, but watching tv always turned into making out, which quickly enough turned into Alaska eating Katya out on the couch because she was a relentless sex fiend. She supposed the girl must get bored sitting around the apartment all day and had a lot of pent up sexual frustration. 

Katya could hardly complain. An orgasm (or two or three) a day kept the doctor away, right? That tongue could make her fall apart so hard and fast. 

Alaska was usually very in control, but damn, she was a kinky bitch. It was a wonderful power reversal for Katya to order her around. 

“Take off your skirt and panties, slowly, one at a time.” Katya whispered in her ear. Alaska stripped, eyes hungry. 

“I'll tell you what I'd like to do to you.” Katya listed off a variety of activities and watched Alaska squirm as she refused to touch her more than gentle kisses along her collarbone. The girl reached her hands to touch herself, but Katya grabbed them to stop her. “You don't touch yourself or me until I say so.” 

Alaska whimpered, and Katya pushed her shirt up over her head and off her body so she was standing completely naked. Katya was still clothed, other than the panties that had been tossed out from under her skirt earlier. 

She led Alaska to the bedroom, because for some reason they always had sex on the couch when there was a perfectly good bed right there. She pushed the girl onto the fluffy sheets and straddled her waist with her legs, careful not to make actual contact. She continued to press her lips along her throat, still avoiding too much stimulation. Alaska bucked her hips in an attempt to meet Katya, but Katya gently pushed her down on the stomach. 

“What did I say?” Katya asked in a raspy voice. 

“Not to touch you until you say so.” Alaska parroted, biting her lip and obviously desperate. 

“That’s right.” Katya carefully rolled off the bed, reaching for the drawer in the bedside table. The perk of being a working woman was having a little cash to do some online shopping. When she got back to the bed she ordered Alaska to put her hands above her head. 

“I’m not going to restrain you but you will keep your hands there, right?” 

Alaska nodded, but at this point Katya was pretty sure she'd agree to anything just to be touched. 

Katya clicked on the vibrator she'd just bought and watched Alaska’s eyes widen at the sensation on her inner thigh. Katya moved her hand in a circle, still careful not to get too close to between Alaska’s legs. She pushed her knees open a little further and drew closer and closer. 

“Fuck, Katya.” Alaska gasped, and she was practically dripping already. Katya took her time before finally spreading her lips and placing the device on her clit. It added a whole new layer to their routine of mouths and hands. It didn't take long before she was coming on top of Katya’s fingers and her handy new toy. 

Needless to say, that was an online purchase worth the extra shipping. 

\--------

“Alaska?” Katya asked. It was the middle of the night, and her and Alaska were cuddled up in bed. 

“Yeah?” Alaska responded, obviously awake. 

“What is it like when you shift out?” 

“Oh.” Alaska seemed surprised, like she never expected questions about her condition. Fair enough, she probably liked to pretend she was normal. Despite that, she still explained. “I guess it's like, I'm here but my physical body is gone. And my consciousness kind of floats unless I really focus. Like, I'm aware of everything going on but the passage of time is meaningless and it all blurs together. “

“That sounds terrifying.”

“It kind of is. When I'm out, I'm trapped, and then it really feels like being a ghost. Sometimes there are flashes from when I was alive, or even current memories. Everything in my head is just magnified.”

“Have you been shifting lately?” It had been on Katya's mind. She'd never gotten home from work or woken up without Alaska here anymore. 

“Barely. Like I said, I don't have much control over it most of the time. I think I could choose to shift out, but it's not easy to shift in. Lately, I've mostly been here. Maybe with an hour or two every few days out.”

“I'm glad you've been here.” Katya whispered and pressed a kiss onto Alaska’s shoulder. 

\------------

When Katya awoke, Alaska was getting dressed. She'd pulled on a blouse and a skirt, but the god-awful sweater she'd first appeared in was slung across her arm. 

“Don't you want to throw that thing out, it's stained and you're the one that says my clothes are gross.” Katya said jokingly from her position on the bed. 

“I might need it.” Alaska said vaguely, fingering the worn fabric. 

“For what? You don't get cold, do you?” At least Katya didn't think she did. Alaska never complained about the temperature and the apartment was always either too hot or too cold. 

“It was Sharon's.” Alaska admitted like her walls had been cracked. It was just a hoodie. 

Katya didn't really know how to reply to that. 

“Do you know why you haven't moved on?” She asked out of the blue, except somehow right on topic. 

“No.” Alaska was closed off again. 

Katya could tell that was as much as she was going to get from the conversation, so she let it go. She wasn't sure she really wanted to know, anyways. 

\--------

Trixie was tired. Her boss had been overly demanding, her coworkers were annoying, and she needed to take some time for herself. So she pulled out her phone a shot off a text to Katya. 

Do you want to go out dancing tonight?

A few seconds later she got a reply. 

Sorry, me and Alaska are hanging out tonight 

Of course they were. Trixie was happy that Katya had finally found someone, she really was. The woman spent way too much time inside alone, and since she'd gotten together with Alaska, Trixie could tell she was much happier. It's just that she was never around anymore. Granted, Katya had been barely present before, but she didn't even see Trixie or Tatianna occasionally now. Never mind that, the slut was probably busy getting fingerbanged by her new girlfriend and Trixie didn't need her. 

Have fun ;) She typed back before heading out alone. It was just going to be for a couple of hours so she could dance away the stress eating at her. 

 

So a couple hours turned into four. People kept buying her drinks, and she was having a good time even though she was alone. She let the music just fill her up and erase everything that had been bothering her lately. 

Later in the night, Trixie went to the bathroom, careful to finish her drink before leaving the bar. When she opened the door, there was a girl with long, voluminous black hair and injection-plump lips sitting on the bathroom floor. She looked very out of it, and Trixie helped the girl to her feet. 

“Thanks.” The stranger slurred as she stood. She was absolutely wasted and Trixie needed to support her weight to keep her from tumbling back to her spot on the floor. “Anyone ever told you that you look like Barbie?” The girl remarked, barely meeting her eye. 

“All the time.” It was the blonde hair and admittedly doll-like makeup. Trixie really didn't mind though, Barbie had always been her childhood idol. “Do you need help getting home?” She asked the girl, trying not to encourage her to speak too much. 

“Home? What does that even mean?”

Oh no. She was obviously an emotional drunk. Trixie thought it would probably be best to get out before the tears started, but the stranger continued. 

“I had a home, a small little apartment in the complex on the corner of Marlborough and Haringway, 519, and it was tiny but I had her and that's all I needed. Well, her and the drinking and the drugs.”

“I think you're really drunk, and you probably shouldn't be telling me any of this.” Trixie tried to get the woman not to divulge her entire personal life. She'd probably regret it in the morning. 

“No Barbie, I trust you. I'm Sharon, by the way.” 

“I’m Trixie.” She reluctantly offered. 

“I'm not gonna remember that, Barbie.” Sharon paused. “Can I bum a cig?” 

“Sorry, I don't-

“I shouldn't smoke anyways. Alaska always wanted me to stop smoking. It was pretty hypo, hypocriti, you know what I mean, because she didn't smoke but she still ended up dead.” 

Fuck, this girl was messed up. Trixie was a little out of her depth. 

“Is there anyone I can call for you, Sharon?”

“No, Alaska’s dead. It's been a year to the day since I found her strewn out on the bathroom floor. She was beautiful, but not like in the movies. There was vomit on the hoodie I lent her but her hair was all shiny and blonde still. You know, it's funny because I dumped her but she left me.” 

“Can I call you an uber? Are you gonna be ok?” At this point Trixie was a bit worried and wanted to make sure this girl got home safely. 

“I'm always ok.” She leaned her head against Trixie’s chest. “You know, for a plastic girl you're pretty soft.”

It might have been sweet if she hadn't thrown up all over Trixie’s shoes seconds later.

She called an uber and managed to load the wasted girl into the car. She stayed with her until they reached Sharon’s apartment and when girl fumbled with her keys Trixie took them from her and opened the door. The apartment was a bit of a dump, but not un-liveable. So much for the “what even is a home?” comments earlier. This was a fine place to live. The girl was just upset,Trixie could understand that. The one-year anniversary of a girlfriend’s death was probably enough of an excuse for anyone to get piss drunk. At least she didn't seem high, so Trixie wasn't too worried. 

It was only once she had brought Sharon home and tucked her into her apartment safely that Trixie realized that Sharon had said she used to live in apartment 519 in Katya’s building. That was Katya’s apartment. And what a coincidence that her dead girlfriend had been named Alaska just like Katya’s new lover.

Maybe Trixie was a little bit more drunk and delusional than she'd previously thought because suddenly, despite all logical reasoning, those things didn't seem like much of a coincidence.


	4. Chapter 4

“Are you ready? We’re meeting Trixie and Tatianna in 20 Minutes.” Katya spoke as she stepped in the door after work. 

Alaska didn't answer. 

“Alaska?” 

“I have a bad feeling about this.” 

“Why? They're gonna love you.” Katya began to change, grabbing some articles of clothes from her closet. “You can borrow my black skirt, you always look better in it than me anyways.” 

Katya went to hand Alaska the skirt, and she squeezed her arms gently. “It's gonna be fine.” She said a bit more softly, and the younger woman began to relax in her arms. She placed a kiss on Alaska’s forehead and continued to change. 

They went to meet Katya’s friends at their favourite cafe. Trixie had been more persistent in asking about Alaska since they'd gotten serious, and Katya had finally agreed when Tatianna suggested they get together to meet her. It would hopefully get them off her back about it all the time.

“If you like her so much, I'm sure we will too.” Tatianna had reassured her. Trixie hadn't looked quite so optimistic about the situation, but she was always harder to win over. She was very protective of Katya, which was understandable considering Katya could hardly care for herself, let alone another person. 

It took Katya a moment to spot them once they arrived at the cafe, but her friends were tucked into a booth near the wall, away from other customers. Katya squeezed Alaska’s hand once before letting it go and taking the lead into the establishment. 

“Hi guys, sorry we’re late, the uber took forever.” Katya apologized, smiling. Her friends didn't smile back, but just looked at each other seriously. Katya took a seat in the red leather booth, and Alaska joined her. It didn't feel warm and comfortable like it usually did. The tension began to rise as Trixie turned to look at her with sad eyes and the group remained silent. 

“What's going on?” Katya asked. This was weird, even for Trixie. Alaska looked really nice… Katya gave her a once over. Her hair was pretty and shiny and she really did look fucking hot in that skirt. It hugged her curves in all the right places and the fabric was just reflective enough to be a bit slutty while the cut was professional.There wasn't anything apparent that Trixie could already hate. Katya felt alienated in this silent interaction. What was wrong? 

Tatianna gave Trixie an encouraging nod, and she finally spoke. 

“Katya, we’re worried about you.” Trixie began and her voice was fake, too gentle, too careful. Her blonde hair was fluffy and framed her face somewhat angelically but it was just a facade. 

“I don't understand.” Katya had been doing so much better. She had a job, a girlfriend, a life. Hell, she even hit the gym every once in awhile. She was basically back on track. 

“This girl you say you've been seeing, she's not real.” The words sounded grating to Katya’s ears, and she couldn't believe they were coming out of Trixie’s mouth.

“She is, she's right here.” Katya gestured to Alaska, but her girlfriend didn't move and kept her gaze trained at her own feet. Why didn't she speak up for herself?

“Oh honey.” Tatianna's face broke from its careful mask, her eyebrows furrowing aggressively. “She's not.” 

“Please, we’re trying to help you.” Trixie begged. 

“I don't need help!” Katya couldn't believe this was happening. Her own friends thought she was crazy. Trixie tried to grab her hand across the table, but Katya pulled away from her. She didn't trust them or what they might do in the next stages of this interaction. 

“Katya, we’re willing to listen to what you have to say, but you have to talk to us.” 

They wouldn't believe her. She knew that much. But they were going to think she was crazy either way. Her girlfriend was a ghost and she had no way to prove it. What could she argue at this point? How could she not have known that other people couldn't see Alaska? It should have been so obvious. Katya thought back to the time they'd been out together, but she couldn't remember for the life of her if other people had reacted to the girl. True, they kept her presence inconspicuous because she was supposed to be dead, and she'd certainly never been recognized before. Surely someone had reacted once or twice and Katya just couldn't recall it. 

“I'm gonna go, Kat.” Alaska whispered, standing up at the booth and pulling herself away from Katya’s reach. Why was she being like this? Didn't she know Katya needed her more than ever right now?

“Please, don't.” Katya said to her, but she could see there would be no convincing her. Alaska slipped away so fast Katya wasn't sure she hadn't just shifted out instead of walking out of the cafe. She was about a second away from following her when her friends spoke again. 

“Katya?” Tatianna asked, barely breaking her from her thoughts. She looked really worried.

“You didn't hear that?” Katya said in disbelief. “You didn't hear her say she was leaving? Didn't see her sitting right there??” 

“You live in apartment 519.” Trixie stated, ignoring the questions, and Katya didn't know where she was going with that, but she didn't like it. “I met a girl named Sharon Needles who used to live in that apartment, and she told me she had a girlfriend named Alaska who overdosed there.” 

“I know it sounds crazy, Trix, but I know all that already. Alaska exists and she's real, I swear! She told me about all of it.” 

“She's not. Even if there is a spirit or some kind of negative energy Katya, she's not real. You've always been sensitive.” 

“You think I made it all up?”

“I think that you're sick, and you were depressed and lonely and the energy in that apartment made you believe things that aren't true.” 

“How would I know so much about her? I'll describe her for you and you can look for her on Sharon whatever’s Facebook. She's blonde, with brown eyes and a long, narrow face.” 

There was no way Katya had made up what Alaska looked like. When she closed her eyes she could see the woman clearly, her soft hair, full lips, pink cheeks. She may be imaginative, but she could never have created someone so beautiful. 

“You could have looked that up yourself Katya, don't you get it? It's not like it's a big secret. Her death is online in the newspaper, on her Facebook, on Sharon’s social media.”

“But I didn't look it up.” 

“We don't know that, Kat.”

“I'm not crazy. I would remember.” 

“We’re not saying you're crazy, but you need help. Remember when you called me months ago because you thought there was a ghost in your apartment? A ghost, Katya! I think it got to your head when that old lady told you it was haunted and it's escalated to this, a lie!” 

“You guys love to act like you know me, like you know what's best for me, but you don't.”

“Well, you certainly don't know what's best for you.”

“Fuck you.” Katya stood up, and Tatianna tried to grab her arm to keep her there. She shook her off almost violently, ignoring her friends as they yelled at her to wait. She couldn't handle this. This kind of distrust she'd expect from her family, but not the people who called themselves her friends. They said they wanted to help but how could they if they wouldn't fucking listen? 

Katya ran out of the cafe as quickly as she could, waving her arm for a cab home. The driver ignored how distraught she was, which was greatly appreciated, and she gave him a generous tip. She didn't know how she'd have answered even a simple “are you ok ma'am?”. Her girlfriend was dead and her friends were traitors. So no, she wasn't ok. 

When she got back to the apartment complex, all she could do was pray that Alaska would be there. There was a nagging feeling in the back of her head that said Trixie and Tatiana were right. Maybe she'd made it all up? Maybe her brain had constructed an elaborate fantasy because she was scared and lonely and depressed. But before her thoughts could go too deep, Alaska was standing in the open doorway with hunched shoulders, her back facing Katya. She didn't react as she entered the room.

“Did you know?” Katya accused her, reaching for Alaska’s arm a bit predatorily.

“Know what?” She barely glanced back to look at her, her voice tight. 

“Did you know that other people can't see you?” Katya clarified bitterly, as if it wasn't obvious. 

Alaska was silent, which basically meant yes. That bitch.

“Fuck, really?” 

“I didn't really. I suspected that day we went out but I couldn't be sure. I was scared so I never went out again.” 

“Fuck you.” So she'd just been letting Katya live a lie? 

“I'm not real Katya.”

“But you are! I'm touching you right now.” She squeezed Alaska’s skinny arm a little harder, and it was real and solid in her grip. 

“I'm dead. We've been over this.” 

“I know that, but you're here and you're real and I can see and hear and feel you.” 

“And no one else can.” 

“So what? Does it matter what they think? You're all I need.” 

“I can't be, though.” Alaska pulled away from her. “You're alive and you need to live.” 

She wasn't saying anything Katya didn't know already, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. Yes, the inconvenience of their situation was always somewhere in the back of Katya’s mind, but she thought they'd figure it out. She didn't really believe in fate before all of this happened, but Alaska had appeared when she did for a reason. Ghosts had a purpose and maybe it was a bit naive and selfish but Katya genuinely believed Alaska’s purpose had been meeting her. They were in love, they were happy, what else did the fucking universe want for them? 

“I didn't care about living before I met you.” 

“Well we don't all get to choose this shit. I didn't choose to be dead and also alive and stuck here for all eternity.” Alaska said bitingly. 

“You chose to kill yourself.”

“Yeah, and I wish it had fucking worked!”

“Please, don't leave me.” Katya begged, her voice cracking, dangerously close to tears. 

“I don't think I have a fucking choice!” Alaska began to cry, and Katya could see she was just as frustrated as her. “You know I don't want to, Kat.” 

Katya wanted Alaska to hold her like she always did when the night was particularly rough, when everything hurt a little more. They were good at comforting each other. Alaska could pull Katya out of depressive episodes with just a few words, and Katya had learned to help when the other woman was stricken with panic attacks. It didn't help that they were both crying now, both yearning for each other’s comfort. They were right next to each other, but somehow they'd never been farther apart. 

“I need you.” Katya sobbed, and Alaska looked away from her. It was true. Katya had felt hopeless before meeting Alaska. Now, she was an actual functioning human being. Without her, Katya knew she would fall back into the dark place she was in before, and this time it would be worse because she'd have heartbreak on top of it all. She wouldn't survive and she knew it. 

Alaska still didn't speak and it was a harsher blow than anything she might have said. 

“I'll do anything, I swear to god I'll do anything to stop this.” Katya grabbed Alaska by the shoulders to force her to meet her eyes again.

“I love you.” Is all that Alaska said, her voice so distant. What a fucking dramatic movie line was that? Bitch. She said it as if Katya didn't already have a gaping hole opening up in her chest. If she loved her, she wouldn't be doing this, wouldn't be hurting her more. 

Before she knew it, Katya was completely reduced to a sobbing, soggy mess. Alaska slipped out the door and she didn't ask her where she was gonna go. She supposed she was a ghost, so she could go anywhere she liked. 

She screamed, yelled normally unspeakable things, but she was so fucking angry and hurt. A part of her kind of wished Alaska had just shifted out so she could still hear her. This sadness overcame her whole body, and once Katya was exhausted from yelling, she slumped down on the couch and couldn't get up. 

 

Fuck her mom for telling her she made a mistake moving here. 

Fuck Trixie and Tatianna for thinking they always knew best. 

Fuck Sharon Fucking Needles for snitching. 

And most of all fuck Alaska for killing herself and for being dead and for leaving Katya all alone.


End file.
